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"terrestrial" poems
A curious extra terrestrial watched human ********** perplexed; seemed more of an internecine combat, not the **cerebral *********** he knows.
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Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
an extraterrestrial watch human ********** with contempt
1448 How soft a Caterpillar steps— I fond one on my Hand From such a velvet world it comes Such plushes at command Its soundless travels just arrest My slow—terrestrial eye Intent upon its own career What use has it for me—
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9.7k
How soft a Caterpillar steps—
How would our (terrestrial) world's biggest mammal look like in space? floating about, no matter how aggressive or gentle he might be, he still would look like just a small particle amongst trillions. yet, here on Earth his size is so intimidating not even the mighty lion dares disturbe him... just how small can something so big be amongst the stars?
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
Elephant in space
She looks out in the blue morning and sees a whole wonderful world she looks out in the morning and sees a whole world she leans out of the window and this is what she sees a wet rose singing to the sun with a chorus of red bees she leans out of the window and laughs for the window is high she is in it like a bird on a perch and they scoop the blue sky she and the window scooping the morning as if it were air scooping a green wave of leaves above a stone stair and an urn hung with leaden garlands and girls holding hands in a ring and raindrops on an iron railing shining like a harp string an old man draws with his ferrule in wet sand a map of Spain the marble soldier on his pedestal draws a stiff diagram of pain but the walls around her tremble with the speed of the earth the floor curves to the terrestrial center and behind her the door opens darkly down to the beginning far down to the first simple cry and the animal waking in water and the opening of the eye she looks out in the blue morning and sees a whole wonderful world she looks out in the morning and sees a whole world.
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6.5k
The Window
[Dedicated to George Raffalovich] In the Years of the Primal Course, in the dawn of terrestrial birth, Man mastered the mammoth and horse, and Man was the Lord of the Earth. He made him an hollow skin from the heart of an holy tree, He compassed the earth therein, and Man was the Lord of the Sea. He controlled the vigour of steam, he harnessed the light- ning for hire; He drove the celestial team, and man was the Lord of the Fire. Deep-mouthed from their thrones deep-seated, the choirs of the æeons declare The last of the demons defeated, for Man is the Lord of the Air. Arise, O Man, in thy strength! the kingdom is thine to inherit, Till the high gods witness at length that Man is the Lord of his spirit.
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6.4k
The Pentagram
Bricks and mortar, steel and boards, Phone poles lined with power cords, on Pothole streets, where engines roar, 'Neath smoggy skies, where jet planes soar, Where penny merchants peddle wares, And news reports pretend they care, Where vagrants sleep, and children stare, And people work for lives not theirs, That's life in the jungle, adrift in the herd, Where terrestrial beasts envy free flying birds Where the pundits stand polished, and speak empty words, And the artists paint portraits, while posted on curbs, Where the men push carts, full of empty cans, And the women spend paychecks, for spray-on tans, Where the truckers drive loads, 'cross a thousand mile span, To appease the great gods of supply and demand, Asphalt and tarmac, girders and glass,   Terrarium trees in cemented sod grass, Ripe with the stench of exhaust fumes and gas, As the choir lines up for the 10 o'clock mass, While the brokers all scream, at a packed stock exchange, As the veterans in wheelchairs sit begging for change, That's life in the jungle, it's just a big game, But remember you're playing, lest you go insane.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
Life in the Jungle
An earth sized boulder dislodged with the thunder Unleashing catacombs   of terrestrial darkness lay compressed beneath it for a thousand years The hidden ancients heard its soul hold forth;   their rumbling silence     ―  laid bare ― They heard its voice rises up with the ears of a new-born fawn Beguiling roots, solid as a rock, hold together like dark matter A soul weight beyond measure shouldering the torn of a divided heart Heaviness ... O' the heaviness ― just a platitude for what you feel when it all comes tumbling down to the ground Venerable times immemorial: an urging silence pushing down to the grave, trying to unlearn the things never known about the hearts we leave behind Jesse Stillwater
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
Dislodged with the Thunder
Candlestick lit, predatory form divorced Daybreak take your feet Assault me with rough dissonant hands Take from me your bright request Down in the valley curtains part The thin plane light overflows Without light-seeking caresses in the clear sky Bold accommodations of the sunbursts To Save Appalachia The displeased living hear of me With Vivomantic symbols After blackened nights begin Fornicating on your birthday Off his downswing that has passed... "How the call it is unfulfilled your mind, thoroughly healed Terrestrial white feathers And tame plains lament Yet less tame after His darkness heals you". That summer day when the rain shaded shallow And as dull walls divorce the Bejeweled earth. You don the nakedness of supernatural awakendness Painted by these symbols Aiseralam spoke... Appalachia The displeased living hear of me With Vivomantic symbols After blackened nights begin Fornicating on your birthday Off his downswing that has passed... Candlestick lit, predatory form divorced Daybreak take your feet Assault me with rough dissonant hands Take from me your bright request Down in the valley curtains part The thin plane light overflows Without light-seeking caresses in the clear sky Bold accommodations of the sunbursts To Save
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Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 9:02 AM UTC
Birthday In Appalachia
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary ***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
Iconoclasm
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary ***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
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26
Once again a still sunrise, Quite too much to my surprise; Now no longer the same reprise, Never believing in fate's demise. Once again awaits the sun, Otherworldly; waits for none; Terrestrial battles with wars unsung, The time is now, and has begun. Once waves of calamity striking the coast, Now sinking caravels with swift riposte; This paves the insanity to roads of most, No graves on marvels without a host. My ambiguous ocean, bounds not to the throes, An effluent river asks not where it goes; But through frigid winters it finally froze, Yet two rigid reasons -- it once again flows. Your guess is as mine, for nobody knows, This mess is divine, and to us it bestows; Thrown into disaster, yet much room for prose, We are the ship-masters -- and everyone rows. So set my oars down, and go for the sails, Open your eyes, ears & mind; there is no trail; Wandering didactic wisp you will find, futility of 'fail', Galactic inhale, cosmic exhale, maybe then will the true path unveil. So leave nasty mates; abandon the ship, No mutiny required, just let the wreck tip, As though through spread fingers they suddenly slip, Though red feelings linger, you find your own grip. Then leave folly habits -- straight at the shore, Shut it & lock it, and close the **** door; There always are options -- endless possibilities to explore, Just activate your wings, open wide--soar. Glad once again, for another sunset, What you pursue is what you will get; So forget calumet, anisette & cigarettes, Simply don't fret -- paint vignettes with no regrets.
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
Sceni(deli)c Horizons
Once again a still sunrise, Quite too much to my surprise; Now no longer the same reprise, Never believing in fate's demise. Once again awaits the sun, Otherworldly; waits for none; Terrestrial battles with wars unsung, The time is now, and has begun. Once waves of calamity striking the coast, Now sinking caravels with swift riposte; This paves the insanity to roads of most, No graves on marvels without a host. My ambiguous ocean, bounds not to the throes, An effluent river asks not where it goes; But through frigid winters it finally froze, Yet two rigid reasons -- it once again flows. Your guess is as mine, for nobody knows, This mess is divine, and to us it bestows; Thrown into disaster, yet much room for prose, We are the ship-masters -- and everyone rows. So set my oars down, and go for the sails, Open your eyes, ears & mind; there is no trail; Wandering didactic wisp you will find, futility of 'fail', Galactic inhale, cosmic exhale, maybe then will the true path unveil. So leave nasty mates; abandon the ship, No mutiny required, just let the wreck tip, As though through spread fingers they suddenly slip, Though red feelings linger, you find your own grip. Then leave folly habits -- straight at the shore, Shut it & lock it, and close the **** door; There always are options -- endless possibilities to explore, Just activate your wings, open wide--soar. Glad once again, for another sunset, What you pursue is what you will get; So forget calumet, anisette & cigarettes, Simply don't fret -- paint vignettes with no regrets.
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36
Creature of myth, you have to be real I know you're there, I know you exist Can't see nor touch but indeed I feel That should suffice to say the least No one I know has seen this mythical creature I stand by my beliefs... I simply just do... This being unknown to aged texts or ancient scriptures Allow me to document, I'll keep it true *"A magnificent neck that tapers into a head Much like a halo, wearing a luminescent crown Azurite for eyes like many have said A golden mane majestically cascading down Almond shaped face, with cheeks slightly scaled In the centre were dimple-like nostrils From it's mouth, a voice; demure and frail Speaks in verses from a time frozen still Within the cage right under its chest I know that calmly there lay beating A huge, magnanimous heart does rest Embedded deep within a physique so beguiling Its spine is perfect, as if forged by a divine mould Limbs are long, but with gait so light Non terrestrial wings that into nothing they fold Stretched around is smoothened skin milky white"* That is all I have got to offer so far Matched the words to my mind's bewitching visage No one has seen it; thus ensured that they cannot mar In my head will forever be etched the image Creature of myth... Please be real Know that I am blinded, I just want to see Not for the others, you don't reveal I do believe... I just need to convince me...
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Creature of Myth
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky             Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle ***** Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch  zoomorphic  zoolatry Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry                      Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity                                 Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
Iconoclasm Epithet
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky             Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle ***** Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch  zoomorphic  zoolatry Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry                      Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity                                 Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
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26
What is she and where did she come from? She's an extraordinary terrestrial. A girl from out of my space but belongs so natural. The stars in that beautiful night sky Why are they so familiar? Why is it when I see here eyes That Gemini is still there? I want to be part of her astronomy Study my heart racing at comet speed To her love that's worth a fortune like astrology I've discovered a celestial body.
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May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:13 PM UTC
Astronomy Girl
My life has never been a clear path, In fact, I doubt there was a path in the first place. I had to climb over trees, go through thorns, topple tyrants, Swim upstream, and fight through storms. For me, giving up is a safe passage way, But on Earth, there is no safe place. Every point in on my path that was clear, I knew it wouldn't last, Every eye of the hurricane I had, I knew it wouldn’t last. But I kept moving, But I know I’m not alone. I know this place isn't my home, Nor anyplace on this Earth, But I move on. I do not belong on this blue, terrestrial ball, Nor my citizenship belong to any country, But I move on. I know I am always being watched over, Whether in valleys full of darkness, Or the mountains that touch the sky. He is, was, and forever will always be, And he will always be there for me. No shadow can cover his love, Nor cloud darken his compassion. He keeps my path straight, And my feet upright. He is my light in the mist, My vision in stormy places. Day to day, I strive to be like him, But I fall short. But do I give up, and take the easy way out? No. My journey isn't over, though. I still have mountains to climb and valleys to cross. All the while, I’m looking above, dreaming of a place Where suffering will end, tears will be dried, we will be healed and be with him, in glory. My life has never been a clear path, In fact, I doubt there was a path in the first place. But I know my goal.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Citizenship in Heaven
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently, And though thy birth-hour beckons thee, Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here, And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear. Hark, how the peoples surge and sigh, And laughters fail, and greetings die; Hopes dwindle; yea, Faiths waste away, Affections and enthusiasms numb: Thou canst not mend these things if thou dost come. Had I the ear of wombed souls Ere their terrestrial chart unrolls, And thou wert free To cease, or be, Then would I tell thee all I know, And put it to thee: Wilt thou take Life so? Vain vow! No hint of mine may hence To theeward fly: to thy locked sense Explain none can Life’s pending plan: Thou wilt thy ignorant entry make Though skies spout fire and blood and nations quake. Fain would I, dear, find some shut plot Of earth’s wide wold for thee, where not One tear, one qualm, Should break the calm. But I am weak as thou and bare; No man can change the common lot to rare. Must come and bide. And such are we— Unreasoning, sanguine, visionary— That I can hope Health, love, friends, scope In full for thee; can dream thou’lt find Joys seldom yet attained by humankind!
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3.8k
To An Unborn Pauper Child
Upon this Primrose hill, Where, if Heav’n would distil A shower of rain, each several drop might go To his own primrose, and grow manna so; And where their form and their infinity Make a terrestrial Galaxy, As the small stars do in the sky: I walk to find a true Love; and I see That ’tis not a mere woman that is she, But must or more or less than woman be. Yet know I not which flower I wish; a six, or four; For should my true-Love less than woman be She were scarce any thing; and then, should she Be more than woman she would get above All thought of *** and think to move My heart to study her, and not to love; Both these were monsters; since there must reside Falsehood in woman, I could more abide She were by art than Nature falsified. Live primrose then, and thrive With thy true number five; And woman, whom this flower doth represent, With this mysterious number be content; Ten is the farthest number; if half ten Belong unto each woman, then Each woman may take half us men; Or if this will not serve their turn, since all Numbers are odd or even, and they fall First into this, five, woman may take us all.
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3.6k
The Primrose
1 Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine, Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine! Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain, For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain. All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air, God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair! The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one, Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun; The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be, Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree. The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small, None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball; The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives, And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves; The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won, And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son. The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune, The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon, Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows, No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose. The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide; Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true, And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue. Now to the application, to the reading of the roll, To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul: Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone, Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown. Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long, And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song? There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair, And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair! Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree; Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb, And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time! Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower, And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower— And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum— And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
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3.6k
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine
1 Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine, Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine! Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain, For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain. All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air, God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair! The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one, Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun; The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be, Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree. The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small, None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball; The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives, And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves; The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won, And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son. The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune, The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon, Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows, No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose. The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride, Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide; Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true, And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue. Now to the application, to the reading of the roll, To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul: Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone, Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown. Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long, And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song? There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair, And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair! Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree; Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb, And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time! Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower, And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower— And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum— And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
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41
Painters, by the highest degree of inspiration, And poets who with the Muse commune, Command in their respective trades un- Common craftmanship, exquisite creation Of pen and brush upon the parchment And canvass, through unfettered figment. Gifted: poets, painters and musicians. Three Geniuses on this terrestrial plane, with mind As efficient as the moon in its fullest grind, As do all artistic souls whose mastery In finest workmanship are seen. Worship The God of arts ye astronauts in spaceship, For poets and painters are cardinal in artistic Enrolment--and no less endowed are many another Like sculptors--with thoughts solitary and cryptic.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
Poets and Painters
“I am a jealous God,” said the Hebrews’ deity. Ain’t got patience for a jealous God, for I’m a spirit free. I have many idols, on this terrestrial sphere. And if I didn’t worship them, I’d surely not be here. For they are Icons, real, of what I have struggled to attain, my ideals and aspirations, or of persistence through the pain. I worship them with love, despite their fallibility. They guide me and inspire me, with their strength and creativity. For example-- modern martyrs, who’ve sacrificed for others; I'm sure that Jesus would think of them as sisters and as brothers. And rock and roll; it’s my religion; I know the Promised Land cannot be much like heaven, without my favorite band. What I seek but never find is Plato’s ideal vision-- the unseen perfect version of our seen world. My submission is to something that we know by feeling, and I think it must be said that the traveling to find it cannot start by being dead. Surely Poetry and Art are to be followed, as a creed; they can be read and seen, and then, perhaps, believed. Music is transcendent, call it the Flesh made Word-- not reserved for us in heaven, but here, on earth, is heard. Nature is a Goddess; her work is the creation; we strive to understand it, through rational “divination,” using math and science, objective experimentation. I have so many idols; I can’t limit adoration to just one jealous God and his righteous indignation. The Bible is a document that’s full of truth, I know; but it was written a long, long time ago. I’m keeping all my idols, for they soothe me and inspire me. I’ll continue in my “lifestyle” of spiritual polyamory. You may say I’m going to “Hell” for my sinful apostasy, but I’m not afraid of the future grave, for I’ll have lived with ecstasy.
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
My Spiritual Polyamory
“I am a jealous God,” said the Hebrews’ deity. Ain’t got patience for a jealous God, for I’m a spirit free. I have many idols, on this terrestrial sphere. And if I didn’t worship them, I’d surely not be here. For they are Icons, real, of what I have struggled to attain, my ideals and aspirations, or of persistence through the pain. I worship them with love, despite their fallibility. They guide me and inspire me, with their strength and creativity. For example-- modern martyrs, who’ve sacrificed for others; I'm sure that Jesus would think of them as sisters and as brothers. And rock and roll; it’s my religion; I know the Promised Land cannot be much like heaven, without my favorite band. What I seek but never find is Plato’s ideal vision-- the unseen perfect version of our seen world. My submission is to something that we know by feeling, and I think it must be said that the traveling to find it cannot start by being dead. Surely Poetry and Art are to be followed, as a creed; they can be read and seen, and then, perhaps, believed. Music is transcendent, call it the Flesh made Word-- not reserved for us in heaven, but here, on earth, is heard. Nature is a Goddess; her work is the creation; we strive to understand it, through rational “divination,” using math and science, objective experimentation. I have so many idols; I can’t limit adoration to just one jealous God and his righteous indignation. The Bible is a document that’s full of truth, I know; but it was written a long, long time ago. I’m keeping all my idols, for they soothe me and inspire me. I’ll continue in my “lifestyle” of spiritual polyamory. You may say I’m going to “Hell” for my sinful apostasy, but I’m not afraid of the future grave, for I’ll have lived with ecstasy.
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33
And as in Orion the old king-astronomer, —                                                                         says his Mistress Rigel, or Betelguese, — the Earth's four quarters                           showing four points of stars afar;                 so, seem they to terrestrial eyes, that broadly                                       sweep the upper                              & lower spheres as seen by the sun,                          by influence divine, wheels through the Ecliptic;                           threading Cancer, Leo, Pisces, and Aquarius; so, by some mystic impulse am I moved, to this fleet's progress                         through the groups                             of swirling white-reefed                Metazones
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Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
after Melville, a thriller
I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land’s sharp features seemed to be The Century’s corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth Seemed fervourless as I. At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware.
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2.9k
The Darkling Thrush
What on Earth took you? Do we dare land? A lark of descension. An aborted beginning. Moon trills. Captain is dead at the controls. Mother gives birth in the airlock. Trouble in the passageways. A struggle to name it. A drink before eclipse. All that's wrong with the world sounds like harmonium in the (wishing) well. First flight over Hölderlin's Archipelago, creating new and stranger versions in the sandclouds. So this is Tharsis Rise? Life without a trace. Non-terrestrial Martian field. Halcyon flowering seas. A rock with no trees, no urban hopes. Yet, the whole universe inside wants to be touched. I love you in zero gravity, pushing tender buttons. *** as solution. Moon trills. A kiss of atmosphere. This alien womb. Those android embargoes. Our children are born echoes of astronauts. Lunar schedules their first words. There's a lightspeed sensibility to this type of marriage and parenting: no leaving the hub, no exit procedure. The Sol they sing is a harm hymn, moon trills, subject to the ladder and the weight of breath this outside Earth. But I love you in the veil of a twilight moon. We're monuments burned into moments. Moments without a beyond.
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Jul 2, 2022
Jul 2, 2022 at 6:36 PM UTC
Permission to Land (Moon Trills)
It was 29° (f) degrees this morning with a waning gibbous (¾) moon. Still, as we started our run, it was dark enough that the world was rendered in black and white. Lisa was a sepia print of herself while Charles was a large, quiet shadow, a dark visual noise pattern. We usually jog from our dorm, down to and along New Haven Harbor and back. Lisa and I love the ocean. The wind was in our faces this morning and there were no sparkling moon refractions in our direction, which made the water musou and colorless. I’ve gotten my outfit down to a science, leggings under shorts, four long sleeve, dry-wicking spandex tops (layering is important), a power-wool-earflap-beanie, thermal neck gaiter and quantum, icebreaker gloves (with touch-screen compatibility) - you gotta dress warmly but be able to shed layers as needed. I listen to audiobooks while we run. Right now I’m on book 5 of the ‘The Expanse’ series. I don’t have time to read anything fun these days, so I listen to science-fiction/fantasy while I workout. I love the new AirPod Pro feature that automatically turns the sound down if anyone talks. I wear a fitbit charge around my right ankle and my Apple watch as well - they both track my run - the fitbit is more accurate but my watch sends my workout stats to my siblings - we’re uhh, sort of competitive. At first, as we came up on the harbor, it was impossible to see the intersection of the two dark oceans - the great terrestrial and the greater galactic - but as we turned for home, there was an atmospheric scatter of blue at the edge of the horizon, heralding the sunrise on our retreating backs. musou = one of the darkest shades of black
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Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 7:41 PM UTC
along the harbor
It was 29° (f) degrees this morning with a waning gibbous (¾) moon. Still, as we started our run, it was dark enough that the world was rendered in black and white. Lisa was a sepia print of herself while Charles was a large, quiet shadow, a dark visual noise pattern. We usually jog from our dorm, down to and along New Haven Harbor and back. Lisa and I love the ocean. The wind was in our faces this morning and there were no sparkling moon refractions in our direction, which made the water musou and colorless. I’ve gotten my outfit down to a science, leggings under shorts, four long sleeve, dry-wicking spandex tops (layering is important), a power-wool-earflap-beanie, thermal neck gaiter and quantum, icebreaker gloves (with touch-screen compatibility) - you gotta dress warmly but be able to shed layers as needed. I listen to audiobooks while we run. Right now I’m on book 5 of the ‘The Expanse’ series. I don’t have time to read anything fun these days, so I listen to science-fiction/fantasy while I workout. I love the new AirPod Pro feature that automatically turns the sound down if anyone talks. I wear a fitbit charge around my right ankle and my Apple watch as well - they both track my run - the fitbit is more accurate but my watch sends my workout stats to my siblings - we’re uhh, sort of competitive. At first, as we came up on the harbor, it was impossible to see the intersection of the two dark oceans - the great terrestrial and the greater galactic - but as we turned for home, there was an atmospheric scatter of blue at the edge of the horizon, heralding the sunrise on our retreating backs. musou = one of the darkest shades of black
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